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by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Blood Drinking, Gen, Implied brainwashing and abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-28
Updated: 2008-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-02 01:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17254790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: Santino tells Armand that he will lead the Paris Coven.





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Santino leaned back on his faded throne of a chair. His fingers were steepled beneath his chin as his mind churned with new information and possibilities. The Parisian delegate had just left to hunt and take part of the honorary Sabbath his presence demanded. It left Santino time to consider his request.

The delegates had been sent to claim a new Master for their coven. Apparently the old fool had despaired of his sublime purpose and saw fit to immolate himself and as many followers as he could gather. It had been the madness of age, nothing more, that had sent the man to screaming about lies and pointlessness. But now the poor retches needed a new Master to lead them in their righteously evil work, and for that they had come to the greatest Coven Master they knew. The choice was easy enough for Santino to make; he had been grooming the extraordinary fledgling for just such a position for months. It was time for him to prove that the efforts had not been wasted. Silently he called for Armand to join him.

Armand watched with some interest as the vampire from the Parisian coven departed to hunt. It was not often that he saw a foreign face among those of his brothers and sisters in the abyss of Rome, and this particular delegate was rendered somewhat fascinating by the long silver hair that tangled around his face. More importantly, it struck Armand that he was considerably stronger than the Parisian vampire, perhaps even powerful enough to destroy him. It seemed odd to Armand that he should have no desire to destroy this stranger. 

Armand didn't have long to consider this. He heard Santino's call and turned to answer it. 

Santino was in his chamber. Armand could hear the rustle of rats' feet somewhere far off, the rapid beatings of a hundred tiny hearts which seemed to him like the heartbeat of the room itself. He and Santino were alone however. Santino did not even rise from his seat as Armand entered, and Armand found himself wondering if Santino regarded him as he had the Parisian vampire earlier.

Santino regarded Armand silently. He watched as the young vampire stalked into the room, his wide eyes scanning until they settled expectantly on his Master. This one was always so very cold, arrogant — perfect for his new role, Santino had no doubt. He had great strength, despite his youth, a gift he was all too pleased to have stolen from the Roman heretic. The boy was certainly intelligent, and had given himself over to the Old Faith with admirable devotion. But perhaps most importantly, he had the ability to enthrall others and gain obedience from them. No Master could hope to lead without this last all important talent, and Santino had brought it out fully of the boy. He was loyal to him insofar as any of their kind could be loyal, and so Santino was confident that he would be able to maintain some level of control over the boy even after he had set him free to rule in his own right.

“Tell me your assessment of our French visitor,” Santino said after he felt Armand had waited long enough. “If I’m not mistaken he is the first of the other Covens you have yet seen and I would like to know your impressions.”

"He pays proper deference to the Dark Laws." Armand answered simply. 

He knew that he should leave it at that, but he could feel Santino's eyes upon him. What could he loose by speaking his true thoughts to this one who could read every secret of his mind?

"Oh, but he's a wretched, sniveling thing," Armand continued, "The Parisian coven wastes Satan's blood on creatures such as him."

He looked straight at Santino now. 

“He’s weak, you mean.” Santino smiled. Oh yes, he was perfectly ready, his little pupil. “I agree with you entirely. But it cannot be helped, you see his Coven recently lost their Master and he was sent to us by their strongest member to beg our help in this matter.”

“But you wonder why I bother to explain this now, for what are such details to you?” Santino smiled with pride and the knowledge of the gift he was about to offer the boy. One of his rats darted into the room from a crevice in the wall. It climbed the long fabric of Santino’s great black robe and settled happily in his lap to be stroked as the man continued to speak to his follower.

“It is months now that you have been my pupil, nay my protégé, and I am pleased with Child of Darkness you have proved yourself to be. When the Parisian delegate returns from the festivities I will be introducing him to his new leader. You, dear child, are to finally put your knowledge and skills to work as Master of the Paris Coven. Now come and thank your Master for the opportunity he has granted you.”

Armand was silent for some time. The slight smile on Santino's lips was typical of him, in that it transmitted no warmth whatsoever, and yet Armand loved the sight of it. Another rat was creeping slowly out of the eye of one of the many skulls lining the room. 

"You wish me to rule the Paris coven?" Armand asked slowly. He did not allow his voice to falter, but all of the assurance had gone out of his face.

“That is what I just told you. Yes.” Santino replied, his feeling of pride for his disciple slipping away. He did not like to be questioned. Besides, Armand’s response was far from the one he had expected. It seemed, hesitant, fearful, far from the jubilation and wonder he had hoped for. This was not the response Santino expected from a soon to be Coven Master.

“You think I was mistaken?” Santino asked. The question was simple enough, but the tone of his voice spoke to the disappointment and anger Armand’s response had sparked in him.

Armand took a step back, without fully realizing it.

"Not mistaken, no..." He whispered, as if considering carefully what his next words should be, "but why do we help them? Is their coven truly so weak that none of its own members are fit to rule it?"

Santino narrowed his eyes as Armand showed his fear more plainly, backing away from him. His words only further added to his growing disapproval and anger. He stood, the rat that he had been caressing fell squeaking to the floor.

“The answer should be obvious.” He began, moving closer to Armand to gauge his reactions. “We help them because they are our brothers and sisters under the same Master as we serve. A coven is only ever as strong as its leader and those he trusts to aid him. You see the Paris Coven is weak and you disdain them for it, but this coven would be weak without me as well. We have more numbers and so greater strength, but it is I that makes this Coven great. Who are you to laugh at our fallen brothers when they cry out for your help? You are the one who will make that Coven a force for true evil in this world, one that no Child of Darkness such as yourself would ever dare mock.”

“As for your second question, you should know the answer as well, if you have been paying attention to anything I’ve told you so far. The last Master went into the flames and dragged his strongest acolytes with him. The Coven is in disarray and needs a new Master to set them back on their ordained path.”

"How many members does it have, this coven?" Armand asked. He let out a deep breath, but did not move away from Santino.

“That I do not know.” Santino replied, his voice softened as Armand began to show some of the intelligence and strength he had originally expected to come against. Perhaps the boy would come around easily after all, though there had been no chance that the end result would be anything but what Santino had already ordered. “They are fewer than we are here, but more than this I do not know. However, when the delegate returns, you may ask whatever you wish of him.”

Armand nodded. He felt lost.

“But you will take the position. I want you to understand that I am not asking for you to go, but commanding you as your Master.”

“Santino?”

Santino just stared at Armand, waiting for him to continue.

“I want to take Alessandra with me.” Armand said, forcing all question out of his voice. 

Take Alessandra? It was an interesting question. On the one hand, Alessandra was one of his most trusted followers and aides. On the other hand, Armand would need guidance. The question was, should Santino pamper the boy and allow him to take such a valuable asset with him? He looked at Armand, trying to decipher how much would be practical and how much would be enabling the child to continue hiding from his rightful place. Ah, but that was the key, he would need guidance to keep his followers in line and in those first nights he would need support. Alessandra would help, but she was too old to remember true compassion. She would not control the boy or let him lean upon her when he should wield power himself.

“Take her if you will.” Santino replied, his voice empty as though he did not already regret the loss of such a useful confidant.

Armand nodded. “I assume this means that I won’t see you again after tonight?”

“That will be entirely left to your discretion. If you feel the need to abandon your flock to seek my company, then you can do it. But I would not advise such a selfish course of action. It would be best that you send emissaries if you want news or advice from me. Your place will be with your Coven.” Santino was touched with the idea that the boy might actually have grown fond of him, enough to miss him. It was difficult to maintain the proper tone of authority, but he had enough practice to hide most of his emotions.

Another nod. “Is that all that you wanted with me, sir?”

“Nearly,” Santino opened his arms, a smile nearly warming his lips. Some might have viewed the offer as weakness, but it was not. This would bind the boy far closer to his final Master, and would guarantee a certain amount of possible control if the future deemed it necessary.

“We cannot part indefinitely without some gift.” His eyes turned to gaze at the minute rush of blood beneath the fragile skin of his protégé’s throat.

Without questioning, Armand went into his arms.


End file.
